


Beyond The Curtains of Fire - Prophecy

by InikiMelset



Series: Beyond The Curtains of Fire [2]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-29 20:50:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20802782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InikiMelset/pseuds/InikiMelset
Summary: On Bajor, a Prylar is sent a message by the Prophets that the colonies Bajoran merchants have established on other worlds are to be disbanded lest their world suffer an imaginable catastrophe





	Beyond The Curtains of Fire - Prophecy

The corridors of the Monastery were crowded with religious dignitaries who had come from all over Bajor to attend the Vedek Assembly which was to begin that very morning. Prylar Orenas made his way through the crowd, carefully threading a path among his superiors. He ranked three levels below them, belonging as he did to a minor order. Unobtrusively, he was searching for one specific Vedek, hoping that he would be permitted to address her and be heard.

  
At entering the inner courtyard, he sighed in relief at seeing her. After a moment of hesitation, he approached the Vedek in question.

  
Orenas bowed his head, held out his hands, palms upwards in a gesture of supplication. “Vedek Naraya. May the Prophets guide you, guide us all in their infinite mercy and wisdom.”

  
She raised her head and looked up at him, repeated the ritual greeting, then asked, “You are…”

  
“I am Prylar Orenas, Vedek Naraya,” he said in a low voice, “I beg permission to speak with you. It … is important.”

  
She briefly gazed at him, recognized his fear and unease in her presence, then rose and grasped his earlobe. “You appear deeply troubled, Prylar Orenas. There is yet time before Assembly convenes. Tell me what disturbs you.”

  
The Prylar took a seat at the edge of the chair next to her and, speaking in a low, barely audible voice which nevertheless reflected an undertone of greatest apprehension, recounted what he had experienced only two days before. Naraya’s expression shifted from curious to awed and finally to deeply concerned when the prylar ended the account of his vision with the words, “…and thus was the vision sent to me, a simple prylar…”

  
Once he had finished, she told him, “You wish to tell Kai Assim and the other Vedeks about this vision and rightly so. It touches us all, all of Bajor even to the future.”

  
He inclined his head, made a gesture of thanks before adding, “My wish to do so is not guided by any kind of presumption; what I saw … it was all so clear, so intensive ... I was there, witnessed it with both my senses and my pagh.”

  
With a gentle motion of her hand, Vedek Naraya rose with him. “Prylar Orenas, this indeed appears to be a matter of great importance. Wait in the meditation chamber across from the Hall of Assembly. You shall be called in to give your account. If this privilege were denied you, it could compromise Bajor’s fate itself.”

  
“You are showing me great mercy.”

  
She met his eyes for the first time, “No, this is no mercy. It is you who have been chosen to be a messenger of the Prophets, have come with their explicit warning. We have more reason to praise you for coming to us than you have to praise us for granting you this privilege. If it means what I think it does, it will guide us in making a decision as to the dilemma with which we have been faced these past months and even years.”

  
Half an hour later, the Assembly began.

Once solar ships had been built to travel faster and be more resistant to the hazards of space, the people of Bajor, and especially the merchants’ and shipbuilders’ D’Jarras had begun exploring their own solar system before venturing outwards, desiring knowledge about the universe the Prophets had created, wanting to see for themselves the many peoples and wonders of which the texts spoke.

  
Indeed, they had made landfall on inhabited worlds, and soon established numerous centres of trade and even colonies outside the Bajoran system. In the capital city of Bajor itself, an entire sector was devoted to offworld trade and contact; there was even an enclave adjoining it that housed a thriving alien community inhabited by representatives of the peoples with whom Bajor had established trade connections. For the most part these people were merchants and their family members who travelled across Bajor to forge further business relations. After barely a century, the novelty of seeing aliens had worn off for the Bajora – after all, they and these peoples all were children of the Prophets, no matter how odd or even frightening they looked…..

  
However, for some decades already, increasingly heated discussions had arisen about space exploration, about the will of the Prophets in all this, if these wonders were only meant to be imagined, if Bajor’s people were destined to search for fulfilment on their own planet rather than to travel offworld, incurring the possible risk that negligible errors made in the course of these voyages could prove disastrous in the future. As much as the Kai and the Vedeks researched, discussed the matter, they could find no answers in the Texts, nor even a hint of things to come. Vedek Naraya was conscious of the fact that Prylar Orenas’ vision could well be the turning point, and this possibility proved profoundly disquieting ….

Muted sunlight fell into a vast hall of pale gold limestone, illuminating the pillars along the walls, and, at intervals, statues of the same material, images of the Prophets holding the symbol of the temple gates in their hands. The high windows commanded a view over the entire valley, a valley with lush vegetation, pools of shimmering water interconnected by waterfalls, forested areas, houses surrounded by gardens and, on the hillsides, temples belonging to minor orders or to the D’Jarras of the various city areas. It was a peaceful world, serene, beautiful, even more so when seen from the monastery and the residence of the Vedeks and the Kai which were both surrounded by a park-like sanctuary. Now however, the religious dignitaries in the hall did not have even a passing glance for what lay beyond their immediate surroundings; a topic that had been touched time and again had finally claimed the attendees’ full attention.

  
“We are in danger of becoming invaders, of taking other peoples’ fates into our hands, influencing them by our very presence without even realizing it, moulding them to become like us, making them lose their own ways.” A tall Vedek, Dessaro Kal, had risen to address his peers in the assembly. “Only think of the people in the merchants’ enclaves – I chanced upon an account written by one of their storytellers which reflected elements of our own tradition rather than theirs.”

  
He turned to the Kai. “Kai Assir, as much as it will undoubtedly pain many of our merchants who have invested inestimable time and resources in establishing bases of trade and colonies on other planets, this is not what the Prophets have in mind for us, this is not the path which our people should follow in fulfilment of their destiny.”

  
“I do not wish to offend you, Vedek Dassaro, but are you certain you are not misinterpreting the verses? It is presumptuous for anyone to claim knowledge of what They wish for us!” Vedek Foren exclaimed. “In no way do our representatives impose their will on the peoples they encounter; all they do is to purchase or lease land to establish centres of trade. Both our own merchants and those on the worlds we have contacted have been given the possibility to export goods and obtain other items in exchange, some of these wonders in their own right. This increasingly extensive trade serves to enhance our collective income, thus making Bajor prosperous. Nor do the merchants’ families who follow them offworld cause any form of offence. The natives we encounter on other worlds are neither exploited nor subjugated. Some of their own merchants have come to live among us in their enclave in the capital to supervise trade and to negotiate on their and their colleagues’ account; they are free to worship and live according to their respective ways.”

  
Another Vedek added, “On one or two worlds, the Prophets have found worshipers other than Bajoran merchants: a few people among the natives of those worlds who have been in prolonged contact with our own either as business associates or as neighbours have adopted our faith or elements of it. The word of the Prophets is being spread far beyond Bajor. This development should not be brought to a premature end!”

  
Suddenly profoundly disquieted, the members of the Vedek Assembly fell silent at realizing the implications of the words that had just been pronounced, but in spite of their unease, remained unwilling to mention them openly until one of their number rose.

  
“Is that what we are fated to become? A people only concerned with profit, with resources and trade throughout space, with unintentionally and surreptitiously bending other people’s wills to our ways? How can we be certain future generations will know when and where to set limits to their endeavours and ambitions? When will we finally become like invaders only intent on furthering our own interests at the cost of other peoples?” A female Vedek, Naraya Setis, had risen and now faced the others, her expression concerned, nearly frightened. “At which point in time will we sacrifice our spirituality and the guidance given by the Prophets for material wealth and power? I have heard accounts of incidents, of conflicts when Reljakani Colony beyond the Curtains of Fire was first established; these very accounts make me fear the worst, even though our people and the Akethi finally resolved the differences and now live in peace. I have met some Akethi who have come here in the course of trade negotiations – they are peaceful, spiritual people who, as we, seek knowledge. However, and this is the critical aspect,” She met Vedek Sathar’s eyes, “we must not forget that the Prophets are of Bajor. They have never demanded we spread our religion among those peoples with whom we cooperate.”

  
“Some hundreds of years ago, a solar ship crashed on the Akethis’ world. They built a shrine which housed the occupants’ remains and the remains of the ship, tended to it, kept the ground around it clear to help the Messengers from the Sky find their missing kin. That is why contact was made so quickly when that world was finally rediscovered. Already, the passengers of that lost solar ship had become part of their legends, of their belief system….”

  
She looked out of the window, across the valley, “This world given us by the Prophets is beautiful, fertile; thanks to their blessings it offers us everything we need now and have ever needed and will ever need: food, clothing, shelter, an abundance of all resources … whatever we harvest, whatever we see, feel and use are ever-present reminders of their generosity and kind rule. It is a world that offers our bodies and souls a safe haven. We have the D’Jarras whose members produce everything we require, both materially and spiritually. We have a millennia-old tradition of peace, thousands of years of high culture.” Her voice became urgent as she turned to the Kai. “Kai Assim, I beg of you and of the others present at this Assembly to grant the following: Permit Prylar Orenas to speak. My request is unusual, yet he addressed me outside, in the hall; I repeat: it is of utmost importance that you listen to what he has to say even though he is no Vedek and therefore has no voice in the Assembly.”

  
“Prylar Orenas? I have seen him repeatedly. He has been attending lectures given by Vedek Kalen,” was Vedek Atos’ comment. He added pensively, “The request is not customary except in the rarest of cases.”

  
“He would not have made the request lightly – I suggest we listen to what he has to say, judge his words according to their merit. There is no harm in that,” suggested Vedek Sedor, “nor is it an offense to anyone, especially not to the Prophets who may have sent an important message through a simple prylar.”

  
“I also favour overstepping the rules of hierarchy for this once,” urged Vedek Jado. “Remember that the Prophets have sent visions of great import even to the simplest of our people, and these have always been permitted to speak; Prylar Orenas is a third level D’Jarrani who is well-known for his knowledge, but who has never striven for a higher position.”

  
Naraya again called out, “Listen to him, I plead with you! If you do not, I fear what may come to pass in the future! He was sent a vision, one that must under no circumstances be ignored!”

  
Stunned at her raising her voice, the Vedeks fell silent as they exchanged glances before turning to Kai Assim who had risen to speak.

  
“You say that he has experienced a vision sent by the Prophets?” he asked quietly.

  
“Yes, Kai Assim. His pagh is deeply perturbed by what has been revealed to him.”

  
“Then it is indeed of importance that we listen to what he has to say,” Kai Assim motioned to one of the guards standing at the side of the door.

  
“Guard, have Prylar Orenas enter.”

  
The guard returned with an elderly man who bowed to the Assembly, carefully avoiding meeting anyone’s eyes.

  
The Kai addressed him. “Prylar Orenas, your request is not customary. May we know why you have asked permission to address the members of the Vedek Assembly?”

  
He spread his hands and inclined his head in a gesture of respect before stating, “I am but a prylar, never expected to have, nor ever dared pray for a vision, yet the Prophets spoke to me two days ago.” His voice was very low as he added, “I wondered whether it was my place to reveal the message myself or to plead with a Vedek to act as my intermediary.”

  
Murmuring arose in the hall when the attendees had recovered from their astonishment at his words; at a gesture from the Kai, everyone fell silent again, listening intently. “Speak on, Prylar Orenas. No one would presume to doubt the truth of what you are saying; nor would anyone ever dare lie about a vision sent by the Prophets.”

  
Facing the Assembly, the Prylar, still awed by what he had been shown in the vision, described it in a low voice. “I was praying, and suddenly was transported into a room not on this world; there I heard members of the merchant D’Jarra deliberating about expanding further, creating more colonies, spreading Bajoran influence to star systems far beyond the Curtains of Fire. These merchants wore the richest garments I have ever seen. They were proud, some speaking with contempt of the people of the world on which they were.”

  
He briefly closed his eyes. “Before They showed me the next part of Their message, everything grew dark around me; someone struck me so that I fell, suddenly blinded and unable to move. I could only hear. Around me strange voices were speaking an unknown, harsh language, there were explosions, cries of fear, of horror, such as I have never heard. … A wave of greatest terror engulfed me; I tried to cry out, escape, but such a weight pressed down upon my chest that I could not move, could scarcely breathe – suddenly the darkness and the weight lifted … I rose to my feet only to see our world blighted, our temples in ruins, our people decimated, impoverished ….” The man’s features were drawn with the horror of the vision.

  
“It was then that I regained consciousness and found myself lying on the ground in front of the shrine, with one recurrent message in my mind: ‘Return to Bajor, forever renounce to travelling beyond the stars. You are losing your way, setting the pursuit of wealth before the good of your pagh. If you reject our warning, you will betray all that is Bajoran, abandon your beliefs and, when the time has come, will be a scourge upon all the worlds you visit. Your kind shall be accursed and experience a reckoning the like of which has never been seen before.’” Orenas looked up to meet the kai’s gaze which was fixed on him, Assim was aghast at what had just been said. “My spiritual leader, most revered Kai Assim, this is what was revealed to me. Do with me and consider my vision as you will. You are one with the Prophets and know their will.”

  
The Kai had to force himself to speak. “My son, you did right in coming to us – what you have just recounted may have far-reaching consequences for us all.” The Kai went over to Prylar Orenas and grasped his earlobe, concentrating. “I can bear witness to the fact you have spoken the truth - your pagh has indeed been touched by the Prophets in a powerful vision. Walk in their blessing and protection.” And … may their warning have come before it is too late….

  
The Prylar bowed and followed the guard out. It seemed to him a crushing burden had been lifted from his shoulders, that his surroundings were suffused in vibrant light …. Everything was clearer, as though, for some instants, past, present and future had become one.

  
Inside the great hall, the discussion resumed; after Prylar Orenas’ account the turning point had come and those present unanimously resolved to advise the secular leaders to reconsider their plans and end their incursions into space together with offworld trade connections, regardless of the losses they would incur.

  
The Kai concluded with the statement, “As is ritual, I shall consult the Orb of Prophecy before arriving at the final decision,” His voice low, barely audible, he closed the session with the words, “Walk with the Prophets and keep your faith in Their benevolent guidance.”

  
Once the doors had shut behind the departing Vedeks, he pensively returned to his rooms to face the small shrine and pray for counsel. He was aware of the fact that, under circumstances, there could be a serious danger of the Merchant D’Jarra’s members revolting if they saw their endeavours curtailed. But no - no true Bajoran would ever consider disobeying the will of the Prophets lest disobedience bring destruction on them all…. and all D’Jarras were bound to obey the will of the Prophets’ representatives on Bajor, the D’Jarra of religious leaders.

  
Hours later, the Kai left the inner sanctuary, exhausted but serene, and called his aide.

  
“Ranjen Eldis, notify Miron Dalra of the Merchants’ D’Jarra to come to my rooms immediately,” Kai Assim stated. “Inform him that the matter permits no delay for whatever reason.”

  
“Yes, Kai Assim.” The Ranjen bowed to the Kai and backed out of the room in respect.

  
Assim remained sitting behind his desk, absent-mindedly fingering a small yet beautifully intricate stone carving an artist had given him in thanks for interceding in his behalf. The Kai was lost in thought, deeply concerned for Bajor’s future. Prylar Orenas’ vision had been so unusually clear it left no leeway, neither for interpretation nor for doubt. A people who will return to Bajor as a scourge… Return to Bajor as a scourge? – which people? That was the only element that was unknown as yet. _May the Prophets preserve us from all evil_….

  
An hour later, Ranjen Eldis knocked at the door.

  
“Enter.”

  
“Miron Dalra has arrived, Kai Assim.” The Ranjen gestured at the merchant to enter and waited.

  
“You may leave, Eldis.”

  
“Kai Assim, I am here to serve you.” With a gesture of respect, Eldis backed out of the office after a surreptitious glance at the Kai. Out in the corridor, the Ranjen suppressed a shudder - he had the fleeting yet distinct feeling that no matter what was to be decided in that room, nor how quickly the decision was implemented, the disaster was inevitable, had become inevitable with the first journey made outside of the Bajoran system.

  
Kai Assim rose and went around the desk to grasp Miron’s earlobe in greeting. “You did well to come at once, my son.”

  
“I await your bidding, Kai Assim.” Miron said in a low voice.

  
Kai Assim considered the spokesman of the Merchant’s D’Jarra who stood before him. He wore rich clothing of alien-made fabrics, Bajoran style, but just short of ostentatious, revealing this man’s great prosperity. Trade had begun after the discovery of the first six worlds; little later, treaties had been negotiated with representatives of their populations, treaties that were to the advantage of the Bajorans. The man standing respectfully in front of her desk was self-assured, proud, if not arrogant even though his D’Jarra was three levels below that of the religious leaders. _Obviously, the seed has been planted – it must not be left to grow, lest the harvest be terrible beyond imagining._

  
In silence, the Kai sat down, indicating Miron follow suit. He unhesitatingly did so, and after a few more moments of silence, the Kai met his eyes.

  
“Miron Dalra of the Merchants’ D’Jarra, I had you called for a reason. For the past six hundred years your D’Jarra has seen to establishing extensive trade with peoples not of Bajor and has prospered. Thanks to you, temples and shrines have been built and richly appointed, many charities created and supported. However, some days ago, a vision was sent to one of the prylars. It is a warning that must not be disregarded, a warning which indicates a need for immediate consequences.”

  
Miron gazed at the Kai, waiting. _Assistance for the Southern Continent after the drought of the past season, no doubt…_ He began mentally calculating what funds could be spared without depleting the D’Jarra’s funds too much, but quickly forgot his calculations; with growing disbelief, Miron heard the words he had never expected to hear pronounced.

  
“The Vedek Assembly have come to the decision that the colonies you have established on other worlds must be disbanded. The Prophets have sent a prylar a vision warning us not to expand our influence on those peoples on whose worlds we have colonies; we risk elevating ourselves over those who allegedly are not as advanced as we are, to finally become exploitative overlords, respecting no one. The blight of arrogance and self-aggrandisement, amassing the greatest possible amount of wealth as their only purpose in life has already taken root among a few members of the Merchants’ D’jarra. To continue along this path will ultimately lead to unimaginable disaster in the future. Our world will be invaded by an unknown people with whose ancestors we already are in contact, its beauty blighted, our shrines destroyed, our people enslaved. This terror must not come to pass!” Kai Assim said urgently, his words pronounced with great clarity and vehemence. “The vision sent by the Prophets is unambiguous.”

  
The merchant gasped in shocked disbelief, then replied, “Kai Assim! This cannot be true! No disrespect meant, but could there not be an error in the interpretation of the vision? I cannot imagine our activities have ever caused offense to the Prophets! Consider how much prosperity off-world trade has brought us all, how much we are learning. Moreover, we have invested heavily in these colonies, many Bajorans have lived offworld for two or three years at a time, some have even settled there, have lived there for generations….”

  
_Wrong, all wrong_ …_ Can we still escape from the fate that has been revealed?_ The Kai’s expression became stern. “Miron Dalra of the Merchants’ D’Jarra, listen with your pagh, not only with your senses and your ledgers. What you have said is just short of blasphemy; such words shall only be permitted once, as I choose to consider them the result of your shock at the news. Keep in mind that such a reaction will not be tolerated again; if repeated a stern penance exacted. The Prophets must be obeyed.” He continued, his intonation once again gentle. “The vision to which I refer was as clear as day, or I would not have called you to state a demand entailing such far-reaching consequences. The one blessed with the vision saw negotiations on a planet not Bajor, followed by the destruction of our world as it is. Finally, he heard the words: ‘Return to Bajor, forever renounce to travelling beyond the stars. If you do not, some of you who will remain behind will betray all that is Bajoran, abandon your beliefs and, when the time has come, will be a scourge upon all the worlds on which you set foot and your kind shall be accursed and experience a reckoning the like of which has never been seen.’” Kai Assim waited briefly, then inquired in a low, persuasive voice, “I ask you, Miron Dalra, is there any doubt in your mind that the Prophets know the past, the present and the future?”

  
“No, Kai Assim. They are all-knowing, all-seeing,” the merchant replied mechanically. The very intensity with which the Kai had told him about the prophecy frightened him; all negotiations and trade agreements – mentally he reviewed them … had he and his D’Jarra placed their interests above those of their partners? Did they really consider at least some of them with a feeling of superiority?

  
The Kai waited briefly, seeing the man’s apprehension. “After your reaction to my words, I fear your pagh and that of many others have already suffered from your increasingly placing financial considerations above spirituality. Prayers have no doubt become a routinely performed duty to be put aside in favour of calculations….” When Miron made a gesture of protest, Kai Assim shook his head with a smile of sadness. “No, my son, I do not accuse you or the others of conscious wrongdoing or loss of faith. In the beginning, you acted according to what you thought was right, never realizing the minuscule errors made; these have gradually accumulated, have been compounded, so now the time has come to rectify them, however painful the process.” The Kai looked at the image of a Prophet pensively, “We can only hope that it is not too late, that that vision of the future Prylar Orens has been sent is not already our fate.”

  
“We have built shrines in our colonies, have Vedeks and Prylars who teach our children and us, hold services, even some of the natives attend, listen … and often believe,” Miron whispered. “We have not turned away from the Prophets …”

  
“Certainly, neither consciously, not even due to new influences. However, something else comes to mind: … what about the native populations you have encountered? How were the contacts initiated? How did they develop in the course of the first weeks, months and years? There were conflicts. In some cases – I think of Relijaka - innocent lives were lost. Remember that to take a life is to destroy your own pagh. The perpetrators of these deeds made restitution, but can lifeless coinage bring the dead back to life? And now? Are these very peoples not being influenced by you even as we speak and, conversely, you by them? This must not be! These very differences between them and ourselves reflect the great wisdom of the Prophets, their power, foresight and benevolence. All of us are their children, even though each people have their own form of worship. My son, I implore you, recall your people, return to Bajor, to the world assigned us by Those who see and know all. Everyone will be granted the option of being resettled in the provinces in which they choose to make their new homes, or in the provinces from which they originally came. Your own D’Jarra would never abandon its own, such are its rules.” Kai Assim urged again. “You will address this at once, and ensure compliance by all means at your disposal.”

  
Reluctantly, Miron agreed, not daring to challenge the Kai’s injunctions again. “I cannot disobey the will of the Prophets, nor will the other D’Jarrayin.”

  
Kai Assim rose and came to stand in front of the merchant, once more clasped his earlobe. “There is doubt as to the message of the vision, and that doubt distresses me, but also recognition of the facts and, most importantly, faith. Make your peace with the Prophets, my son. It is for Bajor’s good. It is also for your own good and for that of those who will follow.”

  
“You are one with the Prophets, Kai Assim.” Miron, dismissed, said as he backed out of the room.

  
The door slid shut. Lost in thought, Miron stood motionlessly in front of the now-closed door for some minutes, staring at it as though not seeing it. _The Council must be called immediately_. He quickly walked through the corridor and out into the street leading back to town. Miron was greatly worried about the meetings that would ensue, the possible reactions of his fellows, but not to respect and obey the words of the Kai which, in this case, had addressed a message from the Prophets themselves? It was inconceivable. The D’Jarras were led by their respective spokesmen, and the people as a whole by the Kai.

  
He hurried to his office in the Merchants’ Sector and immediately contacted the other branches of his D’Jarra. He briefly calculated the time required, then wrote his message  
Convene in the capital on the 18th day of the third month and report to the Council Hall at the fifth hour. Miron Dalra.

  
“Transmit this at once, Onetra,” he told his secretary while rising to leave. “Please tell anyone who wishes to see me that I shall be at the Centre for Offworld Trade and Finance to deliver the invitation to our colleagues there in person.”

  
Onetra’s dark eyes inspected him searchingly for some moments. Clearly something was very wrong – his employer was different, seemed deeply perturbed and worried.  
Miron relented and told the man, “A message from the Prophets, one which has aroused great concern.”

Normally, he appreciated mingling with the alien merchants and their family members – the sector was alive with the sound of strange languages, various styles of clothing, the smells of the spices and goods being prepared for transit. All of it now served to remind him that this way of life was to be abandoned, become a part of the past, Bajor would once again be isolated, not because of its inability to continue exploration as well as expansion of its trade networks, but because of the authority … he suppressed the word ‘dubious’ in his mind … of one cleric’s vision. How would they cope? Certainly, their investments abroad could be recouped to a degree if they stockpiled enough goods so that they could still supply these wares to which his people – at least the wealthier ones – had become accustomed, but to reintegrate all of the returnees could pose a problem, especially as the effects of the last drought were still being felt in a number of provinces.

  
He went up the wide stairs, inserted a card into the slot of the main door to the centre and waited until it slid open. The guard, a massive Lissepian, was pulling shift this time, took his name, then preceded him to the head of the centre. The presidency shifted from one group to the next in intervals of a year – the method had worked very smoothly since its inception.

  
It was a Betazoid woman who welcomed him. With a gesture of welcome, she rose in greeting. “Thank you, Chaktron.”

  
“Welcome, Miron Dalra, I greet you.”

  
“Serenity and good thoughts, Tirzay,” he responded before stating his request. “On the 18th day of the third month a general assembly of merchants will convene in the Centre. All representatives are called to attend.”

  
Dark eyes scrutinized him, met his own eyes, and after some seconds, the woman’s face reflected concern. “Unpleasant news, it would appear.”

  
“Indeed. But keep the fact to yourself lest rumours begin circulating. Calm is what we require now, more than anything else.”

  
“I shall see to the notifications.”

  
“Thank you.”

  
She nodded at him and, after watching him leave, immediately went to work, suppressing the apprehension she felt. The man had been deeply perturbed, that she had sensed at once.

On the day of the meeting, Miron entered the Council Hall and saw that it was filled to the last seat. For a moment he was reminded of Kai Assim’s words at seeing the ornate clothing some of the representatives were wearing. He took a deep breath before repeating the Kai’s message.

  
As soon as he had finished, there was profound silence, not the silence of thought, but the silence of incredulous shock. For some minutes, there were whispered discussions among those present until Chado asked, “When is this to be effected?”

  
“As soon as feasible. Kai Assim demands that the first colonies, those closest to the homeworld, be dissolved within a year at most, with repatriation to be completed within this span. The D’Jarra of Merchants will support the returnees in resettling in the provinces of their choice and in becoming reintegrated in the extant market on Bajor.” He took a deep breath. “Those on Cathassa and Khoberia are to be the last.

  
“How should we dissolve the colonies that quickly? We have invested in depots, numerous buildings necessary for our specific way of life, in some cases we have created an entire infrastructure! These costs can never be recuperated – we need at least four or five years, not a matter of three years!”

  
“Even that is optimistic! The losses will be crushing – a number of us will be forced out of business altogether!” was Chado Belatan’s statement.

  
There were murmurs of agreement.

  
“Our D’Jarra will support the returnees as is expected, but has the Kai even considered the difficulties involved in creating a new base of trade? That cannot be done in a week or a month – it is the work of years, even decades! With some worlds every element of trade is effected via intermediaries.” Djorda, an older trader had risen. “With the intensification of competition due to this process, we will be sapping each other’s markets, leaving far less for everyone. Under circumstances, there may be renewed instability.” He remembered having heard of a period some centuries before, when special dispensation had been given for members of the craftsmen’s D’Jarra to transfer to that of the workers and merchants due to the economic upheavals involved in replacing traditional Bajoran cottage industry by increasingly industrialized production.

  
“The value of the buildings that will be left behind can be replaced by the equivalent value of goods we trade for – stockpile as much as possible, as was stated before, then the transition can possibly be buffered and buy the returnees some time.

  
“These problems apply to us as well,” Aderri, a tall Akethi woman stated calmly. “We have various goods you value stored in our compound on Bajor,” she addressed Miron directly. “fortunately enough of them, too. We will take no funds from you, only goods in a final exchange. Then we can cope, then all of us involved can cope, even though transition will be difficult.”

  
She looked around, gestured at a Flaxian who was sitting next to her. “Enktah?”

  
“We agree on this. It will indeed smooth over the transitory period. Yet I assume it will be easier for us who come from other worlds than for the Bajorans who have established their colonies on ours as their numbers are greater. How many of you are abroad at this time?”

  
Onetra rose and said, “There are roughly ten thousand merchants, craftsmen farmers together with supporting staff, a number of them with families on various worlds.”

  
“And all of this is based on what?” was a shout from the back, a man’s voice, angry, belligerent.

  
“A Prylar was sent a vision of warning,” said Miron. “It must not be disregarded.”

  
“A vision? You are calling on people to make great sacrifices, possibly endure hardship – all because of a … vision? Something as insubstantial as a dream?” Enktah's colleague, Kharm called. “We are merchants, not a religious order!”

  
_He is not of Bajor and thus cannot understand._ Suppressing his horror at the doubt cast on the Kai’s warning, Miron answered calmly, “Merchant Kharm, listen carefully. The Kai is our leader, the Prophets whose existence is proven beyond any doubt our guides. We cannot disobey a direct order given by the Kai. Visions have revealed the future to us throughout millennia. Thus this one, so obviously a message of warning, cannot be pushed aside as a dream.”_ I expected the meeting to nearly become a confrontation. Do not let it become a conflict between our cultures…_

  
There was still some angry muttering, even from the Bajorans, angry comments, but they soon died down. The Kai was the highest authority, answered to the Prophets themselves, was revered, respected, obeyed by all. The Bajorans would not even have thought of disobeying whereas the aliens were not interested in kicking loose a conflict that could cost them more than would already be lost.

  
“We shall prepare for departure as well. If solar ships are used that can transport a greater load, some of us can already return to our worlds along with those carrying the messages. For us Akethi, it is no hardship as we hardly ever stayed on Bajor for more than three years at a time nor were we ever accompanied by our families.” Aderri had once again risen, and with her Enktah the Flaxian and a few others. “It should expedite the process.”

  
After waiting for some time, Miron called out, “Those scheduled to depart for worlds in sectors 1 to 5 within the next five months, report to my office tomorrow. That will be all.”

  
Onetra added, “As we are all assembled, we can begin drawing up preliminary plans for resettlement based on the home provinces of the people who are to return.”

*******

Only a year later, a solar ship, its sails partially folded, glided to a landing outside Reljaka-Kalani Colony. Its unscheduled arrival was a matter of some surprise as it was neither a trader’s ship, nor was a visit by a negotiator or a representative of the Bajoran government imminent.

  
Almost immediately, the ship was surrounded by curious Bajoran colonists who had gathered within seconds, or so it seemed, with a few members of the native population among their number.

  
The man who came out of the vessel, accompanied by his aides, addressed the bystanders at once. “I greet you, people of Relijakani Colony. Please announce my arrival to Dimos Eryan. It is a matter of some urgency. Inform him that Ayano Gilas is here on the authority of the Merchants’ D’Jarra, and the message proper from the Kai.”

  
Two representatives of the merchants’ D’Jarra quickly left; Ayano waited, passing the time speaking to a group of colonists who wanted news from Bajor.

  
It became a longer conversation, and Ayano had been invited into the house of one of the merchants to wait there. It took nearly an hour to find Eryan who was negotiating a deal with a group of Akethi craftsmen, but he hurried at once to the house where Ayano was staying. Eryan quickly dressed in the robes of his rank then went to meet him. “I welcome you, Representative Ayano and ask you to grant me the honour of extending hospitality to you and your aides.”

  
Ayano accepted at once. Dimos could see by the visitor’s expression that something serious had happened on their homeworld and became apprehensive, but Ayano refused to say anything until they were in his house, safe from chance listeners.

  
Dimos’ wife, Sarisa, met them at the door. “Welcome into our home – May the Prophets grant you Their protection and guidance.”

  
The reply was formal, “We thank you for your hospitality. May the Prophets watch over you and grant you peace.”

  
Sarisa quickly brought the group refreshments, then left the representatives and her husband to their business.

  
Their children had long since left the house, her five daughters to follow their husbands back to Bajor, their son to live just some houses further on, in the colony which he considered his real home. They had a good life here on this world, as had their fathers before them, felt safe and interacted peacefully with the Akethi, had friends among them.  
Suddenly, without any definite reason, the woman became restless, disquieted, and contrary to her usual ways, ceded to an overwhelming urge to listen at the door even though she was welcome to join the group at any time to voice her opinion. Sarisa held a cloth, ready to seem occupied with chores in case anyone came out of the main room.

  
It was with stunned disbelief that she heard Ayano’s words, “The Vedek Assembly contacted Miron Dalra eight months ago. A prylar had a vision sent him by the Prophets. Well before this there had repeatedly been talk of our ending travel to other worlds, thus obeying the will of the Prophets by staying on the world they have given us, but this vision was a direct, unambiguous warning that disaster will inevitably follow if we continue as we are now – searching for financial gain at the cost of our spirituality, influencing other worlds and peoples. We will finally lose our belief in the Prophets and contaminate our paghs as well as those of the peoples we encounter.” In a low voice, he added, “I know this is a dilemma for all of us, but in the end the merchants’ D’Jarra agreed to obey the will of the Prophets.” He inclined his head, “We are children of the Prophets, and the Kai is Their representative. The choice of what to do is not ours to make.”

  
His host did not reply, taken unawares by the words. All Dimos could do was stare at him as he realized the implications of the ruling.

  
After a moment’s hesitation, Ayano continued. “Kai Assim called Miron, the representative of the Merchants’ D’Jarra, to his rooms. I do not know what exactly was said, Miron would not specify, but it seems that, after some initial hesitation, he finally submitted to Their will. I do know he was shaken by what he had learned, deeply perturbed. The decision Miron finally made was and is a difficult one. Certainly, none of us is happy about this development, but the Prophets know what is best for Bajor and its people, even though, at the moment, we may not fully comprehend the meaning of Their words, the purpose of Their warning.” He looked across the table to meet Dimos’ gaze. “Already the colonies closest to Bajor have been disbanded, their populations re-integrated in various communities of their choice.” He hesitated, “All of the returnees have been helped to establish trade, can support themselves in the meantime.”

  
“And we? Has our future also been decided? When are we to return?” Eryan hoped against hope that the Relijakani population would be spared this fate. “What has Miron Dalra decided?”

  
Ayano’s reply was formal. “All our remaining colonies are to be dissolved without exception within the next year. We are to use our potential for Bajor and its people alone, and thus obey the prophecy and the will of the Prophets. The Merchants’ D’Jarra agreed on this unanimously: the inhabitants of all colonies, including the three on this world, are to return home. The first tekeli ships are already on their way.”

  
Eryan looked at him in shocked disbelief. _After all we have built up, all we have invested here. Our friendly contacts with the people of this world!_ Aloud, he said, “The matter will be addressed this very evening.”

  
He turned to his older son who had accompanied Ayano to see his parents and thus become a witness to the discussion. “Rekan, notify the representatives of the D’Jarras and tell them to come here this evening. Representative Ayano has an announcement that concerns us all. Give no specifics as yet. The matter will prove divisive enough as is without prior discussions.”

  
Sarisa quickly went into the pantry, automatically reaching for one of the many bundles of spice and medicinal herbs she had hung up to dry by the ventilation slats. _To leave Relijaka_ …. She felt her eyes burn as she began to crush sertar leaves. Once she had herself under control again, the woman looked around and down the corridor. It was a comfortable house she and her family shared, built by Eryan’s great-grandfather to allow for Cathassa’s heat, but still unmistakably Bajoran in its basic pattern and the symbol of the Temple Gates on the front door. The work in and around it kept her occupied all day in spite of the young Akethi woman her husband had hired some months before.

  
She heard someone approach and looked up to see Danaya.

  
“Veyan Sarisa, I have finished the cleaning.” Without any need for directions, she reached for one of the bundles, knowing what was to be done, how finely to grind the dried herbs. Danaya briefly smiled at Sarisa before beginning to work.

  
Pensively, Sarisa considered the young woman more closely, realizing with a start how very alien Danaya actually looked with her scaly, light grey skin, facial ridges and wide neck membranes, and yet, at the same time, how familiar this reptiloid girl’s looks were, so familiar that she could recognize her beauty … They spoke each other’s languages without hesitation; indeed, many Reljakani had close friends among the Akethi. _No, this is not our world, certainly, there have been some rare intermarriages and yet…_.

  
Sarisa knew her employee had a comprehensive education that would have permitted her to find a high status position in the Imperial City, but in spite of this fact it was tradition among the Akethi for young women to spend a year in another household to learn additional skills they would later need as wives and mothers. Only a very few left to embark on careers in one of the capitals of Cathassa. And yet, for the most part, even these young women returned after some years to have families of their own in Aketha Province. Initially, the Bajorans had been astonished at the level of knowledge the apparently ‘simple farmers’ of Akethi province possessed.

  
Feeling the older woman look at her, at seeing her expression, Danaya inquired gently, “Are you all right, Veyan? Do come into the back room, we can continue working there. That one is far cooler than this storage room now that I have filled the water holders along the walls.” She reached out to touch her mistress’ shoulder in a gesture of concern and affection. “It is very warm today, and I also know you enjoy the view out of the back room.”

  
“No, Danaya, I am fine, really. Look, you have done everything for today, so why not return home earlier for once? You work quickly and well. I can assure you that Ilar has chosen a fine young woman in you, and his parents will welcome a good daughter-in-law into their home.” With a smile, she gave the young woman her pay and, at second thought, prepared a packet of diverse herbs and some of the Bajoran treats she knew she and her family enjoyed. “For you.”

  
The other smiled with pleasure at the praise and, clutching her treasure, left with a sincere, “The Bringers of Light watch over you and reward your kindness, Veyan Sarisa.” Danaya was not aware of the fact that, barely four generations ago, her own people had worshiped but one deity, the Bringer of Light, had made no representations of him beyond his symbol, a spiral of blue and gold.

  
Little later, Ayano and his aides left to spend the night in the guests’ compound.

  
For some moments longer, Sarisa went about her tasks as though she knew nothing at all of what Ayano had said; she only glanced at her husband repeatedly. He was unusually silent, his expression serious, even grim, so grim, he seemed aged by years.

  
She became concerned when she saw him stare blankly out the window. “Eryan, what is it? You seem troubled. Did Ayano have bad news from home?” She wanted to hear the words from him.

  
Her husband started, pulled out of his thoughts. “No, Sarisa, we may only be seeing great changes within a short time. The Prophets know I believe in them, obey them, but ….” He got up and embraced Sarisa as though searching for support, “Our trade centers on this world are to be disbanded. We have been directed to leave Aketha Province, return home from Cathassa. Kai Assim informed Miron Dalra about a vision that predicted catastrophe if we remain here. In three weeks the first ships will arrive to take us home. We’ll be the last after the other two colonies have been disbanded.”

  
“No!” His wife stared at him, in stunned disbelief. She had heard the words only a short time before, but now, at hearing her husband pronounce them, they hit her full force. “And to what home might that be? Our family has lived here for over three generations!” With an effort she choked back the words, only thinking _Bajor is no longer our home! This is where we have been born and raised, where we have brought up our children, where our elders are buried_.

  
“We are free to choose the province where we want to settle and Miron’s staff has been directed to assist the returnees in making a new start; those who have already returned have had but very few difficulties. It should not be too unsettling – our D’Jarras take care of their own.” Her husband’s voice was unsteady. “We have no other choice, Sarisa. Even if I dared defy the will of the Prophets, I could not do so as I am responsible for the colonies. I have to set an example.” He swallowed past the tightness in his throat. “Rellaketh province is not unlike Aketha, I have heard, and it is where our ancestors came from.”

  
Sarisa whispered, “And our daughters are there with their own families so that we will not face total strangers at our return. Rekan will accompany us – family groups should be allowed to leave together.”

  
“Yes. Ayano promised me that. There is that much to be thankful for,” was Dimos’ resigned answer. The couple stood where they were for a long time, united in the despair they refused to acknowledge.

That evening, Ayano repeated his statement to the heads of the families who had been requested to attend the meeting in the council chamber. Their reactions were as diverse as their characters, from resigned to angry to disbelieving. A few remained stubbornly silent, even sullen, and it was those about whom Dimos was most concerned as he knew them all too well.

  
Before the meeting ended, Dimos said urgently. “Listen to me, each one of you: heed Ayano’s words! No one can be permitted to stay behind. Every last one of us must leave, without exception. Whoever remains here will be cut off from Bajor and the Prophets forever, as will his children and their children. Who knows what consequences disobedience may have, whether it will not bring the horrors of the vision upon us all, be they Bajoran or Akethi.”

  
With a sigh, Dimos added, “In the morning I have to inform Eganul Lerraso about our imminent departure.”

  
Menaro asked apprehensively, “How will he take it?”

  
“I do not know. Materially, our departure will mean a loss of income for his house as well as for his Province, for the entire area; the same is true of the other two provinces in which colonies have been established. The lease for the land on which we have organized our own colony is fifteen percent of our profits. We may have started out as business partners, as landowner and renter, but in the course of time we have also become close friends who have shared both good times and bad. It will not be easy, neither for us nor our families.”

  
Similar meetings and discussions took place when the representatives had returned to their respective D’Jarras’ areas of the colony to inform their peers of the new development. It soon became evident that disbanding the settlement would not be as smooth a procedure after all as the Vedek Assembly had expected and the Merchants’ D’Jarra had hoped.

  
Immediately after, the colonists, at arriving at home, told their families about the decision that had been made on Bajor. Barely an hour later, a few people moved silently through the darkness towards the empty area behind the council house to hold a meeting of their own. The group that had gathered spontaneously was small, but determined.

  
“Let’s make this brief: My family and I have decided to stay, and we will not change our minds,” stated a young Bajoran. “After all, no one can deny the colony as such is being disbanded, in deference to the will of the Prophets.”

  
The others nodded as his words reflected their own feelings. Then, hesitantly they gave their names, committing themselves to the plan to stay behind.

  
“The only problem is where to hide until the transports have left. You don’t think that the authorities of the colony will just let us stay behind ….” said Naribor. “They will search for us and force us to depart.”

  
A colonist named Menaro suggested, “Those among us who wish to remain most likely have contacts or even friends among the Akethi; they have the custom of assisting friends in times of need as we do. For now, I advise you to pack only the essentials, conceal them, then wait for darkness. When the time has come, we shall go to the neighbouring village where Kellor will take in my family; in the meantime, others can speak to their own contacts so that they will be concealed as well.”

  
“Senyar is my friend. We had decided to work our respective fields together this season,” said Jeran. “There is no need to negotiate on my behalf.” Jeran was a small merchant who supported his family by planting two fields accorded him by the Eganul after one of his sons had married an Akethi woman a few years before and moved to a neighbouring village immediately after.

  
“Good. In six days it is. We meet just below the shrine at this time. There is a sunken path which will keep us safely out of sight while we gather. It is densely lined by trees, granting us further cover.” He added, “Absolute silence. Impress that on those who want to come with us, especially on the children who will be excited by what they will consider an adventure.” As an afterthought, he said, “Those among you who have home shrines, conceal them in the cavern we have found below Ressa’s workshop. We will have to organize our own services from the day of the others’ departure onwards.” With concern he realized that they would be cut off from the Prophets forever….

The next day, Dimos put on his official robes denoting his position as the leader of the colony then went to the compound, alone.

  
“I am Dimos Eryan of Reljaka Colony. I request admission to Eganul Lerraso’s presence, if he can make the time.” Dimos told the guard stationed at the gated entrance.

  
“Follow me, Dimos Eryan.” The young guard turned to lead Dimos into Lerraso’s courtyard, preceding him to a bench in the shade, then brought him cool water. “I shall return with the Eganul’s message.”

  
Within a few minutes, the Eganul, a tall wiry man with pale grey eyes and hair showing the slightest hint of grey came into the courtyard. “Dimos Eryan! Welcome!” He quickly went over to his friend to grasp his forearms in greeting.

  
“Adessi, bring water and latega for the two of us, will you?”

  
The two men were already exchanging pleasantries when the guard placed the refreshments on the table.

  
“Now tell me what you have to say; I saw the tekeli ship day before yesterday. I trust the news from Bajor is good?” Lerraso was curious; as a youth he had wanted to see Bajor for himself, but as he had been chosen to rule the province, an off-world stay had been considered too hazardous.

  
“It is, my friend, but …” Dimos met Lerraso’s eyes and decided to be direct. The Akethi had never trusted anyone who made veiled hints. “Our Kai has spoken to the leader of the Merchants’ D’Jarra. The Prophets have sent a vision that made the Assembly demand we give up all of our colonies, return home as quickly as possible. Relijakani Colony is to be dissolved within three weeks, as are those in Saranji and in Lesana Provinces.” As an afterthought, he added, “The Akethi merchants are returning on the first ships that will come to transfer us back to Bajor. There were only fifteen in all.”

  
“Disbanded?” The Eganul was taken unawares by the news. “Why? There have been no conflicts in the past four generations, you and yours are reliable business partners; I trust my people both here and on Bajor and I myself have been reliable in turn!” He hesitated, “Or have your costs increased so much that you can no longer afford the lease? In that case, we could renegotiate. The only non-negotiable element is for you to continue trade via local intermediaries. Apart from these considerations, there is the fact that many of you have become friends.”

  
“No, Eganul Lerraso, I assure you none of these elements is the case. If they were, I would have brought my aides with me and we would be in the middle of renegotiating terms at this very moment,” Dimos said in a low voice. “There was a warning of impending catastrophe on our world and on yours if we keep our colonies or establish new ones.”

  
The Eganul looked at him evenly. “And you are sure the messenger of your Prophets spoke the truth? It has not been unknown for a very few Khessari to use lies to force their own agendas upon leaders and the people they ruled in the name of the Bringers of Light. It happened here, many generations ago, and ended in an uprising that cost many lives.”

  
“For us it would be unthinkable to lie about a vision sent by the Prophets, in the same way as, for you, it would be to lie about a dream sent by the Bringers of Light.” Dimos stated, “This vision was revealed before the Vedek Assembly, before the Kai himself. He and the other Vedeks can sense if someone is lying, thus any attempt at deception would have been revealed at once, and the perpetrator severely punished, defrocked then sent into exile without any hope of return.”

  
“Relijakani, disbanded …” Lerraso repeated, still trying to absorb the fact. “I shall be direct with you in turn. The taxes you have been paying in exchange for trade privileges have greatly helped my people and myself. The obvious prosperity of this province together with its large population has attracted many excellent artisans besides yourselves. Our goods are even prized by the Koymar himself who is the ruler of this continent. Your departure will be a loss in many ways besides this, yet, much as it pains me to say this, a vision may not be disregarded.”

  
“We shall leave the homes of the colonists at your disposal, of course,” said Dimos who, with wry humour added, “There are no tekeli ships large enough to transport objects their size. They re good, solid houses that can be used by Akethi families – the only difference is the layout.” Dimos stated. “But changes can easily be effected.”

  
“You will be compensated for the property you are forced to leave behind. We do not take without giving value for value.” Lerraso called his aide to request the ledgers be brought and, while waiting, spoke about procedures.

  
“The ledgers of the past year, Eganul Lerraso.” The young woman placed them on the table after moving the cups and plates aside.

  
“Let’s see. We have finest sefrak brocade in the depot, as well as Saranji Province metalwork and bone carvings, tefa wood from Ubari Province, embroidery from Lesana Province. I showed you some samples last week,” Lerraso stated.

  
“Those Varagasi Province gemstones were of high quality, too,” hinted Dimos.

  
With that the negotiations began. In spite of the intense concentration of both men, the haggling lacked the usual vigour and elaborate complaints about facing poverty if obliged to trade the goods at a lower price, which the men deeply enjoyed. Dimos and Lerraso, both businessmen, knew it was the last session they would ever have together. Within two hours, they had arrived at an agreement that satisfied both the Eganul and the colonists.

  
“You shall come to take leave of us before you depart.”

  
“Agreed,” Dimos replied. “We have had good times.”

  
“Indeed, yet all finally comes to an end, much though those touched by the change may regret it.”

  
With that, Lerraso called the guard to accompany Dimos to the exit.

  
Back in the colony Dimos called an assembly to notify the people about the outcome of the negotiations. To his relief there were no complaints. For one, the remuneration was generous and in addition, all those present were stilltrying to grasp the fact that they were being forced to leave. Indeed, even afterwards, all the inhabitants of Relijakani Colony were strangely quiet while waiting for the ships to arrive.

Some hours before they were to be repatriated, the families who had attended the clandestine meeting took whatever of their possessions they could carry then, silently, under cover of darkness, departed Relijakani Colony for the meeting place they had agreed on.

  
Later that night, in a farm house three miles away from the doomed colony, on the very edge of Perali village, Kellor awoke with a start at hearing someone calling his name outside. He quickly looked over at his wife while getting up. “Arani, there is no need for you to rise as well. I’ll check who it is, but it sounds like one of the colonists is here; I am not sure, but it could be Menaro.”

  
“If it is he, do not deny him help, whatever he may need or want. He is our friend,” whispered Arani. “He gave us a cure for our youngest when he was ill then asked for nothing in return.”

  
“I never would consider turning him away or any of the others who have been honourable in their dealings with us! We have enough place and food to share.” Kellor replied as he left. “Hopefully, nothing serious has happened.”

  
At opening the door, he saw the Bajoran together with his family. “Menaro! What has happened? What are you doing out here at this time and with your family at that?” Kellor’s eyes were wide with surprise, his neck membranes spread. “Is something wrong? Come in at once, you and yours!”

  
“Not yet, Kellor, not until you know what I have to say; then you can decide freely whether to commit yourself to helping us or not.” Menaro seemed close to panic. “Kellor, I am sorry to disturb you and your family at this hour, but as you know, we have been given the order to leave your world, return to Bajor.” He fell silent for a moment, then continued, his voice low, “I am Bajoran by heritage, yet I was born here, Kellor, my wife and children know no other world but this one. Bajor is alien to us – our relatives no longer know us as family should be known. In essence, we have become strangers to our own world. This world is our home.” The man’s eyes reflected despair, “Tell me, Kellor, how can we possibly leave Cathassa? I am not alone in thinking like this. There are other families with us who also refuse to abandon all we have built up on this world.”

  
“How many of you are there?” The Akethi began a head count of his own.

  
Menaro quickly tallied up the groups. “As you see, there are twenty-seven families in all. Jeran, however, has already gone to Senyar.” After a moment, he added, “In no way will you be expected to shelter us for a longer time. We need concealment for a matter of a few days at most until the others have departed. Then, hopefully, we can move back into our houses in the colony to live undisturbed. You will be repaid for your help as soon as we have rebuilt our basis of trade.”

  
Kellor grasped the other’s hand. “You, your wife and children are welcome to stay with us. I know Arani and my children will gladly share what we have. No one should be forced to leave his place of birth, ever.”

  
Arani came in, neck membranes spread in mock threat. “I have heard you mention repaying. Menaro, you saved Danjed some months ago. That alone goes far beyond the value of anything we can ever do for you and yours.” She turned to Menaro’s wife and children with a smile, “You look tired – Kellor, come, help me prepare a room for our guests.”

  
The male turned to his older son who had joined them together with Arani. “Varaj, go to Grenar. His younger son has moved to the capital with his family so he should have place for one family, and from there, go and see what other help you can find. We need shelter and concealment for twenty-five more families.” He added in a low voice, “All of them are good people. Menaro can vouch for them.”

  
By the time the sun rose, all of the Bajorans had found quarters; their hosts were going about their work as though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred the previous night, yet remained watchful, observant; their younger children were playing along the road to the colony just outside the village as directed, only stopping their games with calls of “Another tekeli ship!” to stare, wide-eyed, whenever a solar ship departed, disappearing over the hills like an immense coppery kyssil.

  
Shortly after sunrise, Senyar was already working in his field when he saw Dimos’ aide approaching him. He straightened, waiting, his hands filled with seedlings, and said respectfully. “Danos, I greet you.”

  
“Greetings, Senyar. I do not have much time. As you may have heard, the colony is to be disbanded. However, some Relijakani families have not reported to Dimos Eryan, nor can we find them in their houses or anywhere else. Do you know their whereabouts by any chance? They have to be ready for departure within two hours. The last ships are due to arrive any moment now and their departure cannot be delayed.”

  
“I regret being unable to help you, Danos, but we have not seen any of the Relijakani today.” Senyar’s gaze was blank, as though he had not really understood Danos. “I was wondering whether anything was amiss because Jeran and I had agreed to do the planting together this season, share the fields; I have been waiting since sunrise, but he has not come yet. We wanted to pray together for a good harvest …. Look. The seedlings are the right size now, and see how strong they are. He held up the plants. “….it should be a good harvest this year.” The Akethi appeared disquieted. “Tell me, Danos, is something wrong? So many of your tekeli ships have come and departed, but without bringing any goods or people.”

  
“No. Everything is well both here and at home, on our own planet. However, we have been told to return to Bajor. Senyar, I ask you for a favour: Should you see any of the missing colonists, send them on their way to us immediately. This is of utmost importance.” The Bajoran hesitated for a moment, then grasped the man’s forearms in farewell. “Good harvests to you and the others, Senyar. Be guided.”

  
“Good harvests to you and your people as well.” The response was barely audible. “I shall begin the planting, then.”

  
Senyar watched Danos walk along the path to the colony until he lost him from sight. For a moment, he had a feeling of deep loss at realizing that something he had always known had just ended forever; even though these others looked so strange, had such different customs, there had hardly been any conflicts after the first two years as his grandfather had told him. Certainly, it had taken a long time for mutual understanding and true communication to develop, but once the first steps had been taken many close friendships had developed in the course of the years, there were even a very few mixed marriages.

  
As soon as Danos was well out of sight, Senyar turned to wave towards his house where he saw his daughter, Iliessa, watching, ostensibly busy with sewing ready to warn Jeran and his family ….. Moments later, she came running out with the others to join him in the work. The family began joking about Senyar’s simple farmer act, which he often performed for fun, but which had thrown Danos thoroughly off track.

The following evening, Kellor and Menaro decided things were safe enough for him to call in some neighbours with whom he finally found time to speak. They were soon joined by a few additional villagers who had heard about or taken in refugees, as they called them. Irrepressible Akethi curiosity – it had led to quite a number of misunderstandings in the beginning, some of them even violent …

  
“Why were you ordered to abandon Relijakani Colony?” inquired Jilan, one of the elders. “It makes no sense to any of us. Trade was good and we had no conflicts.”

  
“The Vedek Assembly convinced the merchant’s D’Jarra and the government to disband our colonies on inhabited worlds. There are fears that we could or may have already become invaders who seek to dominate and exploit other peoples, and thus act against the will of the Prophets. In doing so, we would risk drawing their anger down upon us, finally perhaps even make them abandon us. The one who had the vision spoke of horrors to be visited upon Bajor and its colonies if we did not obey.”

  
Rakur stated, surprised, “You have never been anything but good neighbours; it is said that, when you first came, your appearance made our elders fear you; they thought it would be impossible to get used to the way you look, to your language as well as to your ways, but after some time, they recognized that, in spite of our differing outward aspect, our peoples have more in common than not. The misunderstandings of the beginning were resolved justly and for the most part laid to rest for good.” He shook his head, “We even share some elements of belief as well as of traditions and art.”

  
Menaro added quietly, “Ah yes, the first years…. I heard there were great disagreements over land due to divergent customs; that we knew nothing of each other’s language or culture complicated matters even more …. We found each other’s appearance unbearably strange, even frightening. You had a different concept of property; you did not have the equivalent of a D’Jarra system, you were always around, watching, waiting, differences that irritated the first colonists.”

  
An older Akethi, Yedon, nodded, “My own great-grandfather spoke of houses being burned when his grandfather was a child; there were deaths, too. In the end our respective family elders agreed to meet and hold counsel before the situation could escalate even more. The material damage was compensated generously, those Relijakani guilty of the murders sentenced to serve the families who had suffered the losses, then sent back to their home planet.” He added, “The fact that justice was done in recognition of our laws made us realize that you were not invaders after all. We respected you for recognizing and rectifying the injustice done us.”

  
With a feeling of shock and apprehension, Menaro stared at Yedon. _Was the Kai right? It seems that when our numbers increased, we were indeed considered invaders! Have we been influencing these people unintentionally? Some of them celebrate nearly as we do, have adopted elements of our clothing, our architecture, even elements of our language and religion, our songs, our arts…. ‘the tekeli ships’…..… and we? We in turn have been influenced by the Akethi. Their children and many adults listened to the legends recounted by our Sirah whenever they could, exactly like our children listened to those of the Akethi storytellers whenever they arrived for the markets. These accounts are being carried home even as we speak and the Akethi returning from Bajor have brought their own knowledge and experiences home with them; Is what has been happening part of the development which the vision addressed? What have we done? Prophets, you who see all, what have we done by remaining here?_

  
Jilan, the elder of Kellor’s family, had been watching Menaro closely and now said, “Menaro, you are deeply concerned, even afraid. Of what? You are a friend. We accept you into our midst. Unquestioningly.”

  
“I fear the distant future, Jilan. What will come of our disobeying the will of the Prophets …” Menaro said, his voice trailing off. Now that the last of the tekeli ships had arrived, he realized the enormity of his and the others’ decision, a decision that could never be rectified. He asked in a low voice, “And what will come of the meeting of our peoples? In what will it result?”

  
“The future is yet to be, Menaro. I saw two tekeli ships land some hours ago. You still can decide, you are still free to remain or to return. If you remain, you will become one of us. If you leave, we will remember you as friends,” Jilan stated, grasping Menaro’s forearms. “Friendship transcends time and distance. It is a part of the fayach.”

  
_We can still decide_. A chill coursed through Menaro’s body at hearing the old Akethi’s words. _But the development has already begun. It began the moment we established a permanent outpost on this world and, later, in two other regions._ …. Aloud, he answered, knowing that he could decide no differently, “We will stay.”

  
Menaro continued quietly, “Your ancestors helped us erect the first buildings over two hundred years ago, began trade with us, a trade that ranged throughout this Province and beyond with the mediation of your own merchants.” The Bajoran leaned his elbows on the polished surface of the table as though exhausted beyond bearing. “And now? All contacts are supposed to be broken off – just like that … The Prophets know I believe in them, respect Their will, but I cannot return. Only the Prophets know what will ensue because of our decision. We cannot return. This world has become our home, you have become our friends.” He wondered aloud, “Have the other two colonies been disbanded without problems, fully disbanded?”

  
Kellor did not react to the question, but answered the other, for him, more important statement. “As is the case for us.” Kellor repeated. “You and your compatriots are safe. In another three days I shall tell some of our young people to run over to Relijakana and look for their friends in the vicinity of your homes; at least that is what they will say should anyone ask them what they are doing. In this way, you need not risk going to Reljakana Colony.”

  
“Thank you,” was the sincere reply. There was no suspicion when their eyes met, neither feared the alien facing him across the table, they had lived together for too long. Both groups were bewildered about and distressed at the fact that their worlds’ contact was fated to end on the weight of a prophecy.

  
The Bajorans briefly thought of Dimos Eryan. He had departed much against his will, as to his wife, Sarisa, she had been mute with grief in spite of having immediate family waiting for them.

  
“Remember Dimos?” Ressa asked in a barely audible voice.

  
“Yes,” answered Naribor. “I know he would have preferred to do what we are doing, but as the organizer of Reljaka Colony, he had no other choice but to obey.”

  
“Danaya was inconsolable,” said Turak. “She always spoke of Dimos and his wife with great respect and affection; they treated her like a daughter, never like a paid servant.”

  
After three days, Varaj, Jorak and Maraki went to the colony. As much as the young Akethi searched, they found no one. The houses were abandoned, most of their furniture and other signs of their former inhabitants gone. For the first time it became clear to them that something had changed forever.

  
Maraki whispered. “They have indeed left. All of them.” She looked around, “It is so very silent here.”

  
Jorek nodded. “Do you realize what that means? Those Relijakani who have sought refuge with us, they have no more chance of ever returning to their planet.”

  
“Be sure that Menaro knows it. All of them do, but you have heard Menaro say they feel this is their true home; the refugees should not have any difficulties rebuilding their lives. After all, relationships between our peoples have always been good for the most part.” Varaj looked around at the houses – he had been welcomed into more than one of them during his childhood, visited his friends and had invited them in turn.

  
“Oh yes, and you are especially pleased about a certain family’s decision to stay: you are interested in Naribor’s daughter, or aren’t you?” Jorak teased his friend good-naturedly.

  
“You must admit that she is not only attractive; far more importantly, she is a fine person. Hopefully, her parents will agree.” Varaj was only slightly defensive. “Nothing can be said against me either. I am strong and healthy. My family is honourable.”

  
Maraki said. “I cannot imagine that there should be any opposition. After all, your parents have often worked together with hers.”

  
Varaj did not answer. He had noticed that the girl’s parents had begun calling her in whenever he stopped to speak with her, exchanging comments, sparring verbally in accordance with Akethi courtship ritual. The young man briefly smiled, remembering how she invariably gave as good as she got. She was honest, hard-working, strong, and he was fascinated by her wavy, light brown hair and dark eyes.

  
In silence the group went home to report on what they had found. For a moment, the assembled Bajorans who had stayed behind stared at them mutely, trying to grasp the scope of their decision. Here and there, one or the other wept quietly as realization dawned that there would be no more news from home, no more contact with their own people. Varaj met Nelis’ eyes across the room.

  
“Your homes are intact so that you can live and work in them the same as before, without change, here on our world. We are well satisfied you have chosen to live with us.” It was Dassan who pronounced the thoughts of the others. “There is no hurry for you to leave our homes; we offer you hospitality for as long as you need it as you must first make your peace with the situation. We shall help you in this.” In a comforting, gentle tone, he added, “The Bringers of Light have created many peoples …. In some generations our two peoples, the Relijakani and the Akethi will have become one in every way, creating something new and unique.”

  
Ertan was startled. _The words of our Vedeks_ … Menaro was right.

  
For some moments, the Relijakani fell silent while exchanging uneasy glances, not because of the words as such, but because of the implications. Intermarriage with the locals had already occurred but very rarely, with both sides not considering such unions desirable, but …. twenty-seven Bajoran families, roughly 190 individuals in all, were by far too few to ensure a healthy population in future even though, according to some rumours, a few others from Lesana and Saranji Provinces who had also refused to leave were possibly on their way to join them. …. They could not remain distinct peoples forever.

  
Dassan, taken aback by the sudden, disconcerted silence that weighed upon the group of Relijakani, gazed at them searchingly. In their attitudes, in their eyes, he saw unease, or even outright withdrawal; with apprehension he recognized Varaj’s surreptitious glance at Naribor’s family, at the Bajoran girl he was courting according to his own customs….. _Bringers of Light, spare us renewed conflicts_….

  
Varaj, in a very low voice at first, but then in his usual confident intonation, addressed Naribor. “Naribor, you have worked together with my family, and our respective families share many years of confidence, trust and mutual assistance. You know me well, too. You know I am a man who does his share of work unstintingly, I am healthy and can support a family. My education would enable me to find a high position in the Imperial City if I were to go there. All those present can also vouch for my integrity.”

  
The Bajoran addressed with these words waited, his face expressionless, even cold.

  
Encouraged by his silence, which among the Akethi meant that agreement was probable after further negotiations, the young male continued, “It would be a source of greatest pleasure to myself and an honour for my family if you permitted your daughter, Naribor Nelis, to join with me and take a first step towards the true unity that Dassan sees for our two peoples.” As confident as he was, the increasingly hostile silence of the Relijakani whom he was addressing proved disturbing; the young man now looked at Naribor uncertainly, neck membranes relaxed.

  
“That question will have to be discussed at length in our family. This, Varaj, is neither the place nor the time for such decisions to be made. You will be told what Jerani and I have decided.” The man’s inflection was just short of insulting.

  
“It shall be as you wish, Vey Naribor,” Varaj replied with a gesture of respect. “However, I assure you that my intentions are nothing but honourable, my feelings sincere.”

  
Kellor said in a barely audible voice, “Varaj, you have made your point. Now you must wait. Remember, among the Relijakani some customs are very different to ours.”

  
“Then all that remains is to prepare to return to our houses when all is clear.” commented Dar Ronak.

  
“That reminds me of one more thing we must consider,” called out Menaro. “There could be a problem in store for us: The Eganul has paid for the houses in the former colony. He may not be pleased at seeing that some of us have stayed behind, contrary to Dimos’ assurances.”

  
The others stared at him; indeed, no one had thought of this – it could mean serious differences with the local ruler.

  
“Then we will build again, I cannot imagine Gul Lerraso not wanting us to remain in his district.”

  
“That is not for us to assume, let alone decide. Let us wait for two days, consider all of the facts then discuss what is to be done. Talk it over with your hosts.”

  
“I shall go to Lerraso with you,” offered Kellor. “Together we shall find a solution.”

  
The meeting broke up, the participants leaving in small groups that were engrossed in their discussions about what would happen. In their wish to remain on Cathassa, they had forgotten about that very question that had just been addressed.

  
Menaro and Kellor were left with their own families. In a low voice, Menaro said, “Deliberations with Eganul Lerraso may be simple in comparison to those in connection with the incipient problem between Naribor and you. Some solution has to be found for Varaj and Naribor Nelis; that is a serious conflict in the making. I know your son Varaj very well – in spite of the differences between our peoples, he would make Nelis a fine husband and honour his wife’s parents.”

  
Kellor nodded, “’Two peoples shall become one,’ Dessan said … it will be difficult, I fear, but if all are willing there is hope the difficulties can be overcome. These two are not the first to take this step. Think of Korim, Adessi’s son and Arell Daya, or Jeran Atto and Sevim …” He sighed resignedly, “My son has been watching Nelis for the past three years, courting her for the past one in spite of my cautioning him that there are strong reservations on Naribor’s side, to put it mildly, and besides, Menaro, I do not have the heart to forbid this.”

  
Two days later, Kellor had the heads of the Relijakani families come to his home. “I have notified Eganul Lerraso of a problem that we must solve together. I ask you now to come with me. You know he is a just leader and will thus find an equitable solution. We go tomorrow.”

  
Naribor stated, “We are not getting our share of the compensation, so we may as well move into our homes at once.”

  
“No disrespect meant, but the colony, both land and buildings, is now Lerraso’s property. A new lease has to be negotiated as well as the terms of retaking the houses,” Jelan said quietly. “In essence, our fate lies in Eganul Lerraso’s hands as we have become his subjects by staying here. He is a good ruler, but will not take kindly to any form of presumption. No one would. In the name of the Prophets, remember that when we are in his presence!”

The next day the Bajorans reported to the Eganul who was already waiting for them. When he saw Kellor arrive with the colonists he stared in disbelief, then inquired, “What is this? I was told the colony was to be disbanded, and even witnessed the departure of the last tekeli ships night before last!”

  
Menaro answered for the Relijakani. “Eganul Lerraso, that is true. That was the agreement Dimos Eryan made with you. I assure you that we do not plan to go back on our word by moving back into those houses without your permission, thus wronging a person who has befriended us. But…“ He hesitated, “we could not leave this world. Consider this fact, Eganul Lerraso: some of our families have lived here for four, even five generations. This world has become our home, we have friends among your people, friends of the kind we do not have on a world we do not really know anymore except for the accounts the travelling merchants tell us.” He inclined his head, spread his arms, palms outwards, towards the Eganul. “We place our lives in your hands, Eganul Lerraso. Do with us as you will. We are your people who depend on you, turn to you for protection and justice.”

  
Lerraso’s expression softened fractionally at hearing this phrase which was used by petitioners – it had long since lost its inherent meaning, but remained part of the formalities. Coming from these specific people, the phrase was not but the formality it had become.

  
“How many of you are there?” he asked directly.

  
“Twenty-seven families, 190 individuals in all,” Menaro answered, holding his position. “The adults are highly skilled artisans and merchants,” he added. “Some could be on their way from the two colonies in Saranji and Lesana Provinces, they, too, are highly skilled. We do not know what they plan to do, if they have left or not.”

  
The Akethi leader was silent for some minutes as he considered the group of Relijakani in his hall. “Dimos Eryan was a friend of long standing. We parted on good terms and I paid him well for the property: 240 houses and thirty storage units as well as workshops in Relijakani Colony.” He waited again. “I agree that no one should be forced to depart his home province, especially you, who have always been an asset to mine. I tell you now: I accept your reoccupying your homes under the following conditions: a fee of 100 lek a year for ten years. You, Naribor, have a very large family. For you, in accordance with our customs, it is 60 Lek. The storage units are 30 Lek each.” He addressed the petitioners, “I trust that this fee will not place too large a burden on your resources while you reestablish your trade, which after all, you will have to negotiate anew. If it does, a reprieve will be granted. It is the equivalent of what I paid Dimos for each house. I shall leave this room so that you can discuss the terms freely among yourselves. Take your time, one of my servants will bring you refreshments. No one will be eavesdropping. Should you discover a listener, I promise this person shall be severely punished.” With those words, the Eganul rose and left with his aides.

  
“Who agrees to these terms? I consider them acceptable, even very generous. We all have skills which will permit us to earn the funds without creating any hardship for us; in no way are they excessive. Lerraso is taking no interest, only wants to recoup the capital he has invested. I am a weaver of brocades and plain cloth,” stated Menaro, “and you, Naribor Orin, a gifted artist – the Eganul has commissioned more than one carving and painting from you and your older sons and daughter, even presenting a number of your works to the Koymar himself who has commissioned more. Jeran, you are an excellent smith and farmer; Resso, there is nothing you cannot do with wood. There is none among us but who can build up a life on this world.”

  
“To pay for the house which was built by my great-grandfather! It is an outrage!” shouted Naribor. “That Eganul is making use of our situation, and has the arrogance to treat me as though I was destitute!”

  
“He means no offense and you should know that after having been born and raised on this world; he is offering you the very same terms he would the head of an equally large Akethi family. There is no humiliation in that. And, as to that house: it was sold to the Eganul in good faith. It is we who have gone back against Dimos Eryan’s word. Always remember that!” Menaro’s voice was harsh. “Accept his terms or else build anew. We will help you do so, that is a promise. Everyone knew our decision would see us facing consequences; in essence, Eganul Lerraso is being exceedingly generous. He could also have assigned us an area in which to establish a new village. That would have proved far harder to realize than to move back into our original homes and pay the sum he has stipulated.”

  
In spite of his anger, Naribor recognized the truth in the words and fell silent, disguising his resentment.

  
Adena, an older Bajoran who had worked in the colony’s archives addressed Naribor very softly, “Overcome the past. If you cannot, you should have joined those who have left for Bajor,” was his blunt comment. “One of your ancestors wronged an Akethi family in a misunderstanding about the D’Jarra system. I tell you he was treated with greater mercy than our forefathers expected: sentenced to assisting Jaro the toolmaker’s family until the oldest son could take over, a matter of six years, then sent back to Bajor.”

  
Naribor did not answer. _That – and now a descendant of that very Akethi family is courting my daughter!_ Seen objectively, and that fact rankled, Varaj was as decent a man as any who could be found among the Relijakani. “I have cast my lot with yours;” Naribor said unwillingly. “I shall reconsider everything with help of the prylar.”

  
“There is no more prylar. He left on the last tekeli ship. He of all could not defy the will of the prophets. We have to worship on our own, read the texts and find our counsel there,” murmured Adena Jal, the archivist. “Let us pray the Prophets know we are here and still consider us their children in spite of our defying their will.”

  
Naribor did not reply, nor did the others who had heard Adena speak react to his words. The group of Relijakani suddenly felt very much alone at that moment, cut off from their people, from the Prophets, from their guidance… “What do I tell Eganul Lerraso?” asked Menaro. “What have you decided?”

  
There was a final burst of murmuring, then Adena answered for them all. “We agree to the terms offered by Eganul Lerraso.”

  
Menaro went out of the hall and saw Kellor waiting for him. Wordlessly the Akethi came to his side and, together, they were admitted to Eganul Lerraso’s rooms.

  
“What is your decision?”

  
“We accept your terms, Eganul Lerraso. They are most generous.”

  
“Your people are assets to my region; moreover I am doing this for my friend Dimos’ sake,” He rose and came to stand in front of Menaro and Kellor.  
“Guard, have the other Relijakani come.”

  
Moments later, the heads of the families entered in a group.

  
“People of Relijakana, move into your houses. They are yours under the conditions you have accepted. The others will be accorded Akethi who have been on your world or have had prolonged contact with your people here; they should have no difficulties with your ways.” The last was said with a smile. “Those who are yet to arrive can expand your village – you will assist them in getting settled here. There is enough land for their homes and the fields they might need.”

Family by family, the group of Bajorans who had decided to stay behind moved back into the houses in Relijakana Colony. The Relijakani soon interacted intensively with the Akethi in the neighbourhood as they had always done; the only change was that Akethi families from neighbouring villages now were coming to live in the houses left empty. After a number of months, the mixed population no longer seemed that unusual to the Relijakani. The families concerned knew one another, knew each other’s respective customs. Within a year, the artists’, metalworkers’ and the carpenters’ D’Jarras such as they were had accepted young Akethi for training, whereas four Reljakani were being instructed by Akethi tradesmen in a form of exchange.

  
In the meantime Varaj waited for Naribor’s decision; every time he approached the house, Nelis was called in. After waiting for some more months, he became impatient and decided to force the issue; in spite of the relatively stern rituals surrounding pairings, there was some leeway for young people to prove to their parents that they belonged together, and this without causing a scandal as long as the rules were obeyed. He knew that Nelis was aware of both her and his people’s customs.

  
A few weeks later, she was at the weekly market together with a group of Relijakani including her parents to trade for various food crops; after some time Varaj managed to get her attention. He quickly met her eyes and made the hand signal for fleeing. To his relief, she nodded and surreptitiously made the sign for evening four times and quickly pointed at an area hidden by a low wall.

At the time agreed on he found her waiting for him.

  
“Varaj, I have thought everything over carefully; I do want the joining.”

  
“Your parents?” Varaj inquired hopefully.

  
“My father still refuses. She clasped her hands tightly, “I do not wish to repeat his words. I never would have expected to hear such ….,” she fell silent.

  
“Our doing this may lead to discord between our respective families and peoples,” Varaj said calmly; “but there is always a meeting of families afterwards. Perhaps the conflict can be avoided then. Nevertheless, as you are certain you want to go through with this, as am I, I suggest hiding for three days, then going to Jilan, our village elder and to our healer, Keradi, to ask them to get into touch with their fellows in Reljaka.”

  
The Bajoran woman touched his cheeks, felt the scaly ridges. “I know what you are planning and am grateful, but hopefully….”

  
Varaj nodded, “I fear Naribor may react badly, Nelis, so listen to me now: I promise you that I shall neither raise my hand nor my voice towards your father no matter what he says or does. To do so would be unforgivable both among your and my people.”

  
“For this I thank you,” Nelis said quietly and took his hand, again noticing the difference in skin texture, the greater warmth.

  
Together they walked a little further and concealed themselves, descending to reach a small entrance leading into a cavern; Varaj had already brought in bedding and supplies to last for the three days that were the custom. Nelis looked around, suddenly disquieted,_ Am I really willing to go through with this?_

  
It was as though Varaj had sensed her doubts. “If you decide otherwise, I will make you no reproach, remain a friend. Remember: this is a test, if we truly think we belong together.”

  
Regaining her self-confidence after the unease created by the surroundings, at being alone with Varaj for the first time, Nelis shook her head. “No, it is all right. It is only that my parents are unwilling to agree, and disobedience to them is ….”

  
“We have the same rules, Nelis. We owe our parents obedience in all things.”

  
After some hesitation, they began to discuss their possible future, shared the food they had brought; Varaj respected the rule of his people to refrain from ‘closeness’ as it was called. At the end of the three days, they gathered up what they had taken and exchanging apprehensive glances, returned to Kellor’s house.

  
“Varaj! What have you done! Naribor came here the evening of your disappearance and was enraged beyond words. And you, Nelis, don’t you realize he may well disown you?” exclaimed Jerani.

  
“Mother, Jilan and Keradi will be here in some minutes.” Varaj said before turning to Nelis. “Nelis, do you trust Keradi?”

  
The young woman nodded.

  
When the healer came in, she left for another room with Nelis. Some time later, the woman returned. “They have not been close. Naribor can be assured that both his daughter and Varaj have complied with our rules.”

  
When Nelis re-entered the room, Jilan said, “Come, you two, and Arani and Kellor. We have already spoken to Menaro and Josta. They are waiting for us.”

  
In silence, they went to Menaro’s house, neutral ground as it were, where Josta briefly conferred with Keradi.

  
“Varaj and Nelis, sit here, please,” said Sasiya, Menaro’s wife. She gestured at two chairs at the other end of the room. The young people complied, observed by the older Relijakani woman. _This pairing, it seems so strange. Even though there have been some very like this already, it will take getting used to, but I know Varaj nearly as well as I do Nelis. Hopefully._..

  
Menaro entered with Naribor, whom he introduced to Kellor and Arani. Naribor barely acknowledged the Akethi couple.

  
_Prophets, let everyone keep his wits about him!_ With that thought, Menaro began speaking. “These young people, Varaj, an Akethi and Naribor Nelis of Reljaka have followed the Akethi custom of Kejathei; it is accepted ritual for a couple whose parents are displeased about a potential match to absent itself for some days, live together under simplest circumstances, then to return and state whether they still wish to join or whether their feelings for one another are not strong enough. Varaj and Nelis have chosen this path. Both Keradi and Josta bear witness to the fact the rules have been upheld.” said Jilan.

  
Menaro continued, “This custom, but with consummation of the union, also exists among my people and usually results in the couple being pledged. I ask Varaj to speak first.”  
Varaj inclined his head in a gesture of respect, then slowly walked across the room to face Naribor. “I respect and honour you, Naribor, your daughter and your family in its entirety. My wish to join with Nelis and thus unify our families is sincere. I pledge my word to support you and yours in need without hesitating as I would my own elders and family members.” His voice was steady and the witnesses recognized he meant every word.

  
Naribor’s reaction startled everyone. Without a word, he rose to his feet and backhanded the young man with all his strength, shouting, “My daughter will not become the wife of an … Akethi.” He spat the word contemptuously. “No matter what promises that one makes.”

  
“Orin!” Divru, his wife, cried out. “Prophets forgive you! This is wrong!”

  
Varaj’s eyes glittered with outrage at the treatment, but his voice was calm as he said, meeting Naribor’s eyes directly. “I promised Nelis that I would raise neither my voice nor my hand against you, Naribor of Relijakana.” He hesitated before continuing, his voice even, “I only wish to ask you this one question: if Akethi are so offensive to you, why did you choose to remain with us, on our world? Our respective peoples are equals, not superiors and inferiors. We have thoughts and feelings and traditions in common, both our religions bid us respect others as children of the Bringers of Light, respectively of the Prophets. I, we, do not deserve your contempt and aversion.” With that he turned to go back to Nelis’ side.

  
“Nelis, speak,” Jilan commanded.

  
“I have known Varaj for as long as I can remember, know him to be kind, industrious, intelligent, totally trustworthy.” She addressed her father directly, “I owe you love, respect and obedience, my father, but Varaj has not deserved to be treated the way you have just treated him.”

  
Naribor did not reply, only ordered, “You will return to Relijakana and find a husband among the Relijakani. This marriage is unthinkable. Do you really desire an Akethi as your husband? Take a very good look at him, see him as he is and – you do not know all of their customs. Can you live with them? With his family and, finally, with him to the very end?”

  
She turned to consider Varaj, “I have always been conscious of the differences, but they do not matter.” She added in a low voice. “How can they? We have lived side by side with the Akethi for many generations, have grown up together, shared so much.”

  
“That does not mean giving up our ways and bastardising our heritage!”

  
Jilan stated calmly, “There have been other such unions, some are already over 50 years old; they are neither happier nor unhappier than the others.” _They have learned about each other and are still learning._

  
“That certainly does not mean such an ill-conceived union should be a matter for rejoicing!” was Naribor’s angry comment.

  
Menaro saw the situation risked deteriorating and wanted to keep it from degenerating into a confrontation that could lead to words that would never be forgiven. “Naribor, I know she is your daughter, but I ask you consider the fact that Varaj is in no way deserving of contempt. When we decided to remain here, we tacitly accepted that this very development would be one of the inevitable consequences. It is now touching both your family and Varaj’s, which makes it more immediate for all of us. As Jilan stated, the development began two generations ago and will inevitably become a part of our lives on Cathassa.”

  
Kellor rose, “My family and I would unreservedly welcome Nelis into our family. She is a fine person, a credit to your family who can be proud of her. Naribor, I assure you on the Book of Light itself that your daughter will never be lost to you and that we, according to our traditions, will always assist you if need be.”

  
His wife, who was still stunned at Naribor’s treatment of her son, added, “I can but repeat what my husband has said. These young people are both sincere. I plead in Varaj’s name. We are a good family, in every way your equals, being as we are a clan of farmers and craftsmen.”

  
Naribor himself realized he had made a serious error but refused to recognize the truth he was hearing. The Relijakani rose and called out, “It would appear I no longer have a parent’s rights over my own daughter who has been influenced, even manipulated by the Akethi to defy our own customs. So be it. Nelis, I tell you now: go to your Akethi, join with him for all I care. From this day onward you are no longer my daughter and no longer a child of the Prophets.”

  
At hearing his words, Nelis grew pale and, seeing her distress, Varaj quickly touched her hand. “Reconsider, Nelis. You still have the chance,” he said loudly enough for everyone to hear. “To lose family is a terrible thing. Your father’s concern is understandable as our peoples are so very different. Do not think of me - choose with your mind and awa. I respect your choice, whatever it may be and should it be against me, will not bear you any ill-will.”

  
“My decision has been made. I shall not go back on my word to you.” the young woman said in a firm voice.

  
Naribor turned away and, together with his wife, left the room without a word.

  
“Nelis, you will live with us until the time for the joining has come,” Kellor said. “Be comforted: reconciliation with your family is but a matter of time…” he still added, “I cannot promise it will be easy either for you or for us, but the differences in our traditions are not insurmountable. Others have learned them before and, in fact, you already know them all.”

  
The Bajoran woman nodded, waiting.

  
Menaro gestured at the young people, “Varaj, Naribor Nelis, come. You combine two heritages, so I give you these. Your mother,” he addressed Nelis, “wanted you and Varaj to have them. She slipped them to me before she left.”

  
Nelis said in a low voice, “These pledge bracelets were made when I came of age …”

  
“When are they worn?” was Kellor’s query when he examined them, fascinated by the intricate patterns, the like of which he had never seen.

  
“They are put on when a couple make the preliminary commitment,” explained Menaro. “We had hoped for reconciliation; it is regrettable that this pledging is to take place with only one family to bear witness.” He turned to the young people. “You are sure of this?”

  
“Yes,” they answered together.

  
“Then repeat after me: ‘In the presence of the Prophets I promise to join with you, to support you at all times, to honour our two families and raise our children according to the precepts They have taught us.”

  
The words were repeated by Nelis, then Varaj.

  
Keradi then called out, “May the Bringers of Light protect these two in this commitment made between members of our peoples. Help Nelis and Varaj prepare for their future, find unity, and honour their families.”

  
They gave Nelis the first bracelet to place it around Varaj’s wrist, before giving him the other to place around hers.

  
Kellor said in a low voice, “Menaro, Sasiya, Josta and Keradi, come to us tomorrow. We shall have a small celebration, and … I only wish Nelis’ family were attending.”

  
There was no answer. Nelis arranged her skirt, pushed back her braids, waiting – for what?

  
“We shall be here for you now, and later as well. You may need my services,” Josta said with a gentle smile. “Nelis, make use of the time of waiting to learn to live like an Akethi. Your fate is now inextricably bound to ours.”

  
With that the four Relijakani left Menaro’s to wait at a friend’s house after embracing Nelis and Varaj. For some minutes, the Akethi family and Nelis sat together in silence, motionless, until Varaj held up his wrist to trace the outlines of the symbols on the pledge bracelet, covertly glancing over at his fiancée. He could read Bajoran script and knew the language, but this? It was an ancient form unknown to him.

  
Nelis took his hand and, touching the links one after the other, said softly, “Honesty… faith and faithfulness … blessings of the Prophets …. two families one … fertility …. long life… accord … trust.”

  
“Good wishes,” murmured Varaj, “We will realize them all.”

  
Renewed silence so that the only audible sounds were the rustling of clothing as Keradi went out the door, soft breathing, and from outside, a light breeze, the hum of insects, the voices of people going about their affairs. _Relijakani voices_ was Nelis’ thought. _My future, Akethi._ For a moment she was frightened. _I know so many of them, well enough to love Varaj, but, how are they really among themselves when we are not among them? Prophets, help me!_

  
Arani rose and held out a hand to Nelis. “We must leave now, Nelis. Tayesa has been watching the younger children and still has studying to do. Our family is waiting”

  
She noticed the slight hesitancy in the Reljakani woman’s manner. “You know us. Varaj and the other members of our family will help you learn our ways. They are not frightening at all. In fact, you already know most of them as do the other Relijakani. Those in our respective families who have serious reservations about this union will soon accept you when they see your willingness to become one of us.” She laid her forehead against Nelis’. “Come, daughter.”

  
The young woman rose wordlessly to follow the Akethi to their own village; when they had reached the first houses a few of the young people she knew well came to meet them, curious, but also with the wish to make her feel less of an outsider. They did not address her, only touched her gently then accompanied the group until they arrived at Kellor’s house.

  
When they entered Kellor’s and Arani’s home, Nelis looked around; she knew it well, though now it seemed strange: a large room that served as a kitchen and dining room, connected to it a larger room where she had seen entire families working at tasks in connection with their professions, or diverse time-consuming chores done in a community during the rainy season; how often had she and her friends had been there with Varaj’s family, listening to the accounts and anecdotes told by the visitors and participants, joining in the tasks …. She had listened to Akethi legends which Jilan, the village elder, had told. The air smelled of wood, herbs and another vague scent she could not determine, but which was familiar, calming.

  
Rakto and Kayati, the elders of the family, came to meet her. “Welcome, Nelis,” then looked at her in silence for some time. “We welcome you into our family. We will be honest with you: it will not be easy in the beginning, recognizing and accepting the differences, learning about each other’s customs, but with the Bringers of Light’s help you will become a true member of our family. We shall support you in this for Varaj’s and the family’s sake and, finally, for yours.”

  
The older woman approached to place her hands on the young woman’s cheeks, murmuring, “So different, so very different but,” She turned to Varaj, “From what I have heard about her, I think you have chosen well.”

Six years later, eleven more such unions had been established, eight of them in Relijakana, with varying success and, finally, children were being born. Of the five children Varaj and Nelis had had up to then, only two survived – their mixed heritage made pregnancy difficult and the health of the children fragile. Jasto and Keradi worked together, exchanging information, trying to cope with the problems of the mixed heritage children that were being born, knowing there would be far more to follow in future.  
After she had borne her second living child, Nelis decided to go to the celebrations with Varaj and her young son. From a distance, she saw her father, but he either did not see or ignored her, but when her mother caught sight of them and rushed through the crowd, he followed, albeit reluctantly.

  
“Varaj and Nelis?” the older Relijakani woman said nearly shyly, “You have fine children. Please. Let me see them! After all, they are my grandchildren.” It was the first time that she had spoken to her daughter in public since her departure.

  
With a smile, Varaj held the younger one, a girl, out to Nelis’ mother, who took her, then held her close, and led the small boy over. He looked up at Divru curiously.

  
Naribor stood a little aside, unsure, looking over at his daughter and his son-in-law. It was evident from their entire manner they were in accord with each other, and mutually supportive. After some minutes, he went to join them, uncertain about how he would be received.

  
“The Prophets have blessed you with new life,” he said in a low voice, looking at the children.

  
“Two children … a son and a daughter,” said Nelis. “We lost three others ... their mixed blood.”

  
“It is regrettable. However, the two living children you have offer you pleasure and your family a future,” offered Naribor, “There is something I wish to say: I was mistaken in opposing your marriage. It would appear you have been granted each of the wishes inscribed on those pledge bracelets.”

  
Varaj went over to the Reljakani. “Yes, we are content, but one element is missing: it is my desire that your family reconcile with Nelis, that our families truly become one.” He slowly extended both hands, palms upwards, his glance open. “You feared for Nelis’ well-being and … for your people – you are afraid that they will disappear as they become one people with us.”

  
Taken unawares, Naribor stared at the Akethi, at the children, at his daughter, then grasped the young man’s forearms. “The harshness of my words was unwarranted and I regret both them and my treatment of you. I let my judgement be clouded by a past that had seen my own ancestor wrong yours. I asked Eganul Lerraso to let me see that entry in the archives.” He added with an effort, “I had to realize that I indeed feared for my people. It is hard to accept that we Relijakani are fated to disappear and finally be forgotten.”

  
“The past is the past and should not influence our decisions, the future is yet to come. We ask you and your wife to visit us after the celebrations; our entire family is coming.” Varaj offered. “They will be pleased to have you join.”

  
Standing a little aside, Divru heard the offer and told her husband, “I have visited them repeatedly, whenever I could. They have been kind to Nelis, fully accept her. There have been no reproaches that three of her children have died.”

  
“We know that is not her fault!” Varaj nearly shouted. “Our people are not fools, after all! We knew of the risk and accepted it, even though the losses were painful. We have two; in some months another will be born and, hopefully, live. Keradi went to the Imperial City and hopes that the medicines she has been given will offer us a greater chance of having healthy children.” He sighed, “Nelis is the one who wants more – I would have been content with the two we have, lest she be harmed.”

  
“She already thinks like an Akethi…” muttered Naribor.

  
“Yes, like an Akethi, but also like a Relijakani” replied Nelis. “The family is everything – we are four generations in all under one roof along with diverse relatives; there is mutual support, security, no one is abandoned. Of course, there are conflicts among members, that is inevitable, but they are usually resolved. In essence, it is not much different to what I have seen among our own people.” She shook her head disbelievingly, “Only five days ago, Varaj’s older sister spoke to me and said, ‘I offer you the child I am carrying to fill your home with joy, I have six of my own; my husband has agreed to this.’ and she means it.”

  
“We shall come. When you have had your next child, we can have a ritual of joining according to our customs.” He embraced her, then, together with his wife, watched her walk towards the Akethi village with her husband and her children.

  
Our future, a mixed heritage… For a moment he thought, _We’ll become legends, as did the first Bajorans who crashed here, or be forgotten as we gradually are absorbed, only leaving our mark in those to come….. It is that disappearance I feared and still fear, a disappearance which none in my generation and the next will live to see. It is the will of the Prophets and, possibly, their punishment – we challenged them_ ….

The populations mingled rapidly, a process facilitated by the fact that Reljakani and Akethi families were now living side by side in the same village. The distance the two populations had formerly maintained had become a thing of the past, a separation only maintained while the Reljakani colonists had formerly had the option of returning to their home world… This option no longer existed. The exchange of values and ways of life intensified without the participants realizing it, even to the development of social norms and expectations that were a combination of Bajoran and Akethi values. Due to cessation of offworld contact, the province once again was unremarkable, except for the products of its craftsmen. Trade was not restricted to within the Province of course, but the flow of offworld goods had permanently ended. Far away from the influence of the main city of what was to be the Cardassian Empire, the two populations were left to their own devices, as the overlord of the Province who became the successor to the Lenok family line roughly fifty years after the colony had been disbanded was only interested in getting his yearly deliveries of goods.

  
As the generations passed, ‘the colony’ as it was called, slowly became a distant memory as the populations gradually combined. For some four or five generations, their numbers decreased because of the problems inherent in their hybrid heritage, but as the Cardassian elements began to dominate the gene pool, there were more live births, and fertility rates rebounded. Within ten more generations all that remained of the former settlers were slight variations that made the Kelani minority ‘different,’ such as the intonation and vocabulary of their dialect, a few of their customs and elements of religion, their architecture and that, every now and then, light-haired individuals were born, or that their skin showed the slightest hint of coppery or flesh tones in a certain light.

  
Aketha-Relijakani, the name of the area in which the colony used to be, was contracted to Kelan and, in the course of time, the villages combined to form the main trade centre of the province which had preserved the name Samagaltayi.

  
After one serious famine, the formerly densely settled farming province lost population when many of the inhabitants fled to the larger cities in hopes of escaping starvation. Yet, the famine over, those who had fled returned home. The inhabitants of Relijakani district were determined to stay where they were, whatever the cost, knowing that, if they left, their fertile land would immediately be settled by others from neighbouring provinces. The only change they made was to combine small farms that had evolved out of the former communal fields into increasingly larger ones as the farmers, together with the religious leaders, refined irrigation and agricultural techniques, so that the province gradually evolved into one of the most important agricultural regions of the continent and its main population centers those of the province, especially as modern machinery made labour easier and more efficient than formerly. But the Kelani remained apart from the increasingly militant mainstream, remained as peaceful and as spiritual as their ancestors, well content with their own way of life.


End file.
